


Hearteater

by Matloc



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, as the title suggests haha, demon!Kuroko, except random people nobody cares about, just a drabble about first encounters, obligatory NOBODY DIES tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:42:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matloc/pseuds/Matloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love makes the heart bloom and Tetsuya indulges most eagerly when it’s ripe for the taking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearteater

**Author's Note:**

> based on a twitter convo about hearts being edible. thank you mari and erin for your extensive knowledge on edible organs

In his rare exponents of pursuit, misery stands a silent companion. Tetsuya seeks prey not for satisfaction but to fulfill a self-prophesied duty with which he brings tendrils of misery to entwine around his throat, leave a mark as red as the first drip of blood on his claw. Even under nocturne-sung backdrops, the color of scarlet fails to lose its coveted veneer.

It’s the most enticing quality of the heart that's glistening red as he cradles it in his palm. He spares a moment to recite his thanks to the man lying naked underneath him, a meaningless ceremony he holds purely out of good conscience—to outline the only human semblance he may have, coupled with appearance.

Tetsuya presses a kiss to the cold skin of his lover’s cheek. "Thank you for the meal,“ he says, and one might just find a hint of sadness if they strained their ears, if only those words weren’t reserved for the dead. The lives he has taken with his very own hands, he promises to treasure them all if that’s the least he can do.

And then he devours a heart.

* * *

Sharing a human appearance doesn’t necessarily grant him presence. He walks down crowded streets with the conspicuousness of a fair lily hidden by a bushel of glaring roses, the end of his loose white tee flutters lightly in the wind as he makes his way to an outdoor cafe.

The day doesn’t start off any different, withstanding a shove or two every so often as white-collared workers rush to late meetings. This time it’s too rough, a sharp jab sending Tetsuya stumbling right into a table. His center of gravity tilts at an angle so obtuse he ends up looking into a pair of mismatched eyes, while strong arms steady his back and give him the opportunity to fully gape at the person whose lap he’s currently occupying.

"I presumed the stories of angels falling into one’s arms mere fairytales but it seems a reevaluation of beliefs is due.” That is most certainly not what Tetsuya expects to come out of this man’s mouth, but it’s enough to jolt him back to his senses, untangling himself out of his hold, settling steady onto his own two feet.

One eye glints like the sun in fuzzy shadows cast by a striped parasol that nonchalantly lounges in the centre of the table. The other hits closer to home, color same as the hearts that make for Tetsuya’s feast. There is no mistake, he has seen this look directed at him one too many times during his conquests. A focused gaze roving over his body, it pins him with the illusionary texture of handprints, and methodically bores grooves into every inch of skin as though preparing him for dissection. He can tell very clearly.

_Appraisal._

“Are you not?” The man continues to sound utterly unfazed, like it’s an everyday thing for him—though judging from the way a light breeze so easily sifts through fine red strands falling over his eyes, unknowing bystanders probably find themselves lured in by the will of the gods themselves.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” Tetsuya keeps a blank face, though his utter bewilderment probably shows in how he takes back a couple steps, keeps a distance that barely brushes personal space. “I think you might be suffering from a head injury, though. I apologize if that was my doing.”

“That’s hardly the case, you need not worry. You don’t seem to have a physique that'd leave much impact,” the red-haired man thoughtfully says.

“You’re rather poor at consoling people,” Tetsuya shoots back. “Please refrain from any further attempts.”

“I see.” He takes a hand to his chin in a gesture so refined it leaves Tetsuya wondering if the man had been bred to look like a king. “I will consider it.”

His silk-tailored clothes suggest the same: a glossy dress shirt with black slacks to match, and the business suit casually draped over his chair that doesn’t quite fit the lively environment of a popular dating spot.

“Although, if you’re not an angel, then perhaps you're a demon?” He sounds like he’s asking about the weather, with a polite little smile tacked onto his lips and a curious tilt of his head, but the knowing look on his face leaves Tetsuya’s throat dry with the possibility of a threat suddenly emerging into vision.

He’s waiting for a response Tetsuya’s not sure if he could give. The urge to flee reigned in from the very start, but now it’s becoming hard to suppress as it tightens every muscle stretching along the length of his limbs.

After a brief silence passes over them the rich stranger covers his red eye, leaving a serpentine yellow that observes far too much. “My left eye can see things which are not human.”

This is the first time Tetsuya has been found out.

 


End file.
